I am James Herriot but divorced from Helen and with a new wife trying to become pregnant.  In a field with a glacier and a lake.  I am a medieval king writing with black ink and possessive (about (I think) his children, but possibly his pens).  I'm on a boat, hugging an extremely tall beloved, I come up to her waist, telling her I love her.  I think she owns the boat, but it's run by a guy who used to love me.